


Dorei Selama

by katofthenorth



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: WoW elves are like cats, World of Warcraft: Wrath of the Lich King, all the dark rangers just need hugs, elf ears are important, elven cuddle piles give me life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 08:38:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16301789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katofthenorth/pseuds/katofthenorth
Summary: After the Battle for Undercity (WLK) Sylvanas needs some time to gather her thoughts before heading back to Northrend to aid in the defeat of the Lich King. Her Dark Rangers follow her to indulge in something they all miss dearly from life.





	Dorei Selama

The Undercity was hers once more.

Those that had dared to side with Putress and turn against Sylvanas Windrunner, were now rotting on pike just outside of the ruins. The battle had been hard, and not without its sacrifices.

Having the Alliance dogs running freely about her city, even for just a short while, had set Sylvanas on edge. To say nothing about nearly dying for a second time. She shook her head, fists clenching as she stalked her way through the Undercity, making her way towards the elevator that would bring her up to the ruins proper.

She shouldered past a bulky orc on her way, allowing a small snarl to pass her lips. On top of that, Thrall had lost what little trust he had in her after her Apothecaries betrayal and had thusly filled her city with brutish Kor’Kron guard dogs. There to ensure that she at least toed the line.

It was infuriating, and Sylvanas needed to get away from it all. Take a breather, as laughable as that was given her current condition.

Everything had happened to fast. In a few short months, she had gone from defending her people, to being an undead slave slaughtering her people, to breaking free and forming a nation. Now she was set to sail back north and help slay the man who had started it all.

The elevator opened and Sylvanas quickly navigated the short hall that took her out into the ruins proper. The sun barely managed to shine through the heavy clouds that covered her kingdom, yet it still managed to warm her corpse of a body. Unthinking, Sylvanas closes her eyes and turned her face to the sun, seeking out its light and warmth. A habit that death hadn’t managed to snatch away from her, a craving for the sun. Shaking her head to clear her mind, Sylvanas walked out across the ruins.

The crumbly outer wall was her destination and she made quick work of climb to the top. She strolled along the wall until she came to a more intact part, high stone barrier complete on the inside, yet open to the glade. Putting aside her bow, Sylvanas sat down with her back against the wall, allowing the heat of the sun warmed stone to soak into her body.

The soft warmth and the gentle sound of the wind whistling through the ruins lulled Sylvanas into a rare state of relaxation. Her ears sloped back, her glowing crimson eyes drifted closed and her treacherous mind wandered. It took her back to simpler times. To soft sand beaches made irresistibly warm in the Quel’Thalas sunshine. Of girlhood days spent lazing about in those sands, free of any responsibility. Young Lirath filling the quiet air with sweet music while she and her sisters danced, kicking up small storms of sand, their laughter joining the music making it all the more sweet.

The pain of loss griped at Sylvanas’ heart and she struggled to force it down. Such feeling had no place in her mind now.

Her eyes snapped open as someone settled down solidly against her side, affectively chasing away the memories. Instinctively, she reached for her bow, but her hand stilled when she noticed that it was one of her Dark Rangers currently invading her space.

“Anya,” Sylvanas ground out, her shoulders tense, “what are you doing?”

The ranger, Anya, shrugged, “I saw you come up here,” she started, “figured I should follow in case any other traitors remained.”

Sylvanas’ eyes narrowed, “but what are you doing right now.”

Anya chewed at her lip with a fang, her ears twitched before she answered, “I missed this.” She shrugged again, or maybe she was trying to get more comfortable, Sylvanas couldn’t tell. The ranger was quiet a moment before softly saying, “Dorei selama.”

Ah. That simple phrase pulled yet another memory to the forefront of her mind. Nights spent piled in a bed with Allera, Vereesa and Lirath. Allera always complaining that her bed wasn’t meant for so many elves, but pulling her siblings closer all the same.

How long had it been since she had last been in a Dorei selama? Sylvanas closed her eyes against the fresh pain in her heart, as it had been long before Allera had been lost beyond the Dark Portal.

Without another word, Sylvanas relaxed against Anya, shifting her shoulder so that the ranger wouldn’t impale herself on one of the spikes on the pauldron she had chosen as a pillow. She wasn’t at all surprised to feel a head rest against her knee, or a back against her other shoulder.

Cracking open one crimson eye, Sylvanas allowed herself a small smile when she saw that all of her Dark Rangers had joined the impromptu Dorei selama. They had to have been waiting to see if it would be allowed.

In that moment, warmed by the sun and surrounded by her fellow Rangers, Sylvanas decided something. Just because there was no joy in their curse, did not mean that they had to push aside all pleasantry that might, even for just a moment, ease their suffering.

**Author's Note:**

> Used a rather sketchy Thalassian translator, Dorei Selama roughly translates to Pile of Children.


End file.
